


Control

by conceptofzero



Series: Control [1]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/M, M/M, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-16
Updated: 2011-10-16
Packaged: 2017-10-24 16:14:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/265444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/conceptofzero/pseuds/conceptofzero
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes, you just need to let somebody else take the reins for once. Crowbar hands control over Stitch and Snowman just watches.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Control

Crowbar likes what he does. For the first time in his life, he’s not just on top of his shit, he’s on top of everyone else’s too. He’s good at it, but sometimes, he thinks that maybe he’s too good at it. They respect him, but it’s an earned respect, and just as easily as it was earned, it can be lost. There’s nothing wrong with being the defacto leader, except that there’s never any downtime. He used to go home to his wife and relax at home. But he doesn’t have a wife or a home to go to, just a room that’s always got someone knocking on the door, telling him that Itchy’s being a prick again, or that Clover won’t stop singing, or whatever today’s crisis is. There’s not a lot of room for insecurities or weakness when he’s got a household to take care of.

He says as much to Snowman and Stitch. It’s a quiet night, and he’s holed up in Stitch’s boutique with the two of them, having a single beer while he takes a five minute break, “I’m not saying that I want to quit. I’m just saying that I wouldn’t mind if I could just take a break and let someone else handle everything.”

“We can look after things if you want to head into town and get laid,” Stitch suggests.

“I can’t,” Crowbar shakes his head, “Not that you two couldn’t take care of things but. I can’t go into town for that. At least, not for what I want.”

“Whatever it is you need, I’m certain someone can provide it,” Snowman smiles a little around her cigarette holder, “My kind aren’t exactly prudish. Unless you have some strange biological need I’m not aware of yet.”

“Ha ha. No, you’ve seen them all so far,” Crowbar sips from his beer, trying to enjoy it. But he can hear sounds from outside and he knows it’s only a matter of time before someone starts something, “It’s. It’s kinda fucking embarrassing.”

“It’s a little late for embarrassing secrets,” Stitch rightly points out. It’s stupid to get prudish around the two members of the Felt he has slept with. Stitch turns his dummy around and starts working on the other side of the coat, “Out with it.”

Crowbar looks between them, and then glances around the room to make sure none of the assholes have wandered in. He finally reluctantly spits out, “I need someone to boss me around in bed. I mean really boss me around, just... fuck me until I can't even stand anymore. And people talk about that sort of stuff, and all it’ll take is someone even breathing a word around the Midnight Crew-”

He doesn’t need to explain the rest. Even they know how that’ll go. The next time Crowbar’s squaring off with Slick, the mouthy bastard will announce it to everyone, and the next time Crowbar tries to settle some shit, he won’t get anywhere, not with most of the Felt sassing him back twice as hard.

Crowbar takes another swig of beer, "I'm not dying over here or anything. Just..."

"It would be nice," Snowman says and he nods. It would be nice. There used to be a few people back home he could trust to keep their mouths shut and do exactly what he needed. But it's not the same here. He can't trust them, and if he can't trust them, he can't ask for it, "I understand the sentiment."

"Yeah, I guess you would," She's an ex-Queen. Crowbar's not completely up on his royalty, but he's pretty sure that people probably gossip if the person who used to be your Queen takes home someone and asks for something out of the ordinary. Or hell, even the ordinary, "How do you deal with that?"

"The same you way you do, I imagine. I stay around here with people who won't sell my secrets," Her hands dip into her pockets, but slip-out empty handed. Stitch doesn't appreciate when people smoke in his boutique, so Snowman doesn't. Crowbar can never tell if she only remembers when she reaches for her lighter, or if she's just touching it as a way of staving off the need.

"I'm too goddamn old to try that shit," Stitch mutters around a mouthful of pins, "You two are more than enough trouble."

Snowman and Crowbar exchange a look and roll their eyes subtly. Stitch says that, but he's the one who started this. Crowbar doesn't really know what to call it. It's not a relationship, not exactly, but it's more than just no-strings sex. Maybe it's just an attempt to stay sane when surrounded by so many assholes and idiots. Crowbar makes a point not to think about it too deeply. He just goes with it.

A timer rings outside and Crowbar sets aside his beer, grabbing his crowbar and standing up. But before he can even really get moving, Snowman reaches out and puts a hand on his chest, “That’s all you need? Someone to top you?”

“More or less,” Crowbar hesitates, glancing at Stitch, then back to Snowman, “I’m not asking either of you to do it-”

“You don’t have to ask,” Stitch continues pinning the jacket, not even blinking, “Go lock the door, we don't need anyone barging in. Snowman?"

“He's all yours. I'll just watch this time,” Snowman says, and Crowbar looks between them, caught off-kilter by the sudden decision. It's like he somehow missed part of the conversation, except he was right here the whole time so he knows he didn't.

"Don't I get consulted on this?" He jokes, or tries to, but it falls a little flat. Stitch and Snowman exchange a quick glance and he feels a bit overwhelmed, "Come on-"

"I told you to lock the door. I ain't asking again," Stitch says, and his voice hits Crowbar like a ton of bricks. He swallows, and does exactly as he's told, crossing the room to the door. After a moment's hesitation, he locks it shut, and turns back around. Part of him wants this, really wants this, and part of him is a bit terrified at how badly the other half wants to be pushed around, “I’m almost done with this. Go sit down.”

"Look, Stitch-" Crowbar tries to say, not entirely sure what to say or even how to say it, but Stitch just points to the chair Crowbar was in, pulling pins out of the corner of his mouth and finishing up his work. Snowman shrugs, letting Stitch have the lead, and just lounges against the sewing table. Crowbar heads back over after a moment, sitting down and quickly finishing his beer. Snowman reaches out and brushes her knuckles against the side of his head, smiling at him in a way that forces Crowbar to give her a quick, nervous smile back.

Stitch finishes with his outfit as Crowbar drinks the last of his beer, and he strips off his jacket, glancing around the room. He hangs the jacket on a coat rack half-full of partly finished Felt jackets and takes a seat, motioning for Crowbar to get off his ass. Crowbar does so, glancing over at Snowman. But the look on her face doesn't tell him a damn thing.

The tailor eyes him silently for a moment before saying, "Alright kid, strip down."

Crowbar almost says Stitch's name again, but Stitch just snaps his fingers, making a hurry-it-up gesture. He does as he's been told, shedding his layers one by one. He drops his things on the floor, and Stitch and Snowman silently watch as Crowbar strips down. By the time he tugs his underwear down, he’s half-hard from Snowman's sly little smile and Stitch's intense stare. Crowbar steps out of his boxers and stands in the middle of the floor, his heart speeding up just a little.

There's the sound of another timer, and another, and Snowman sighs, "I'll take care of that. You take care of him," Snowman sets a hand on Crowbar’s head, rubbing her thumb over the back of his skull, “I’ll see you two when I’m done," She fades out, her touch turning intangible and leaving behind only the heat on her skin. When the sound of ringing stops, Crowbar finally turns to look at Stitch again, not entirely sure what to expect.

Stitch looks him over, eyes sliding from top to bottom, and then back up again, "So you need to be fucked, huh? Is that want you want?"

"Yes," Crowbar's voice is quiet, just a little ashamed of himself for needing to ask for this.

"Yes what?" Stitch prompts and Crowbar almost laughs at it, except he goes from slightly turned on to rock hard at the demanding tone in Stitch's voice.

"Yes sir," Crowbar tries, and it must be right because Stitch nods. He stands and walks over, reaching up and putting a hand on the back of Crowbar’s neck. Stitch pulls Crowbar's head forward and presses their lips together. It's a rough kiss, and Crowbar's caught half off-guard by it, his hands grasping at Stitch's shirt. He's all too aware of how naked he is, and how much he'd like to just press himself against Stitch and rub, but the grip on his neck is like iron, and Stitch kisses him hard enough to bruise his mouth, reminding Crowbar vividly that he's in charge.

They break apart to breathe, and as Crowbar sucks in a breath of air, Stitch grabs onto Crowbar's lower lip and bites it just hard enough to leave a mark. He can't stop the 'nngh' noise the crawls out of his throat, and he's not entirely sure that he wants to, not when Stitch smiles at Crowbar like he's won something. Stitch's hand tightens a little, enough to make Crowbar's mouth stay open, and then he pushes him towards the cot in the corner.

Crowbar lets Stitch direct him, doing as he's ordered to without hesitation or reluctance. When Stitch pushes him forward, Crowbar kneels down on the low-lying cot, and falls onto all fours. It's not the first time he's been on here, though usually he's bleeding out. Now he's just waiting to hear what's next, "Spread," Stitch says, and Crowbar does, spreading his fingers and his legs at the same time. He takes a deep breath, trying to steady himself.

He can't see what Stitch is doing behind him, but he can hear Stitch moving around, and the sound of him uncapping something. It becomes obvious what it is when Stitch presses a finger against Crowbar's entrance, the cold lube on his finger getting a gasp out of Crowbar, "Stitch-"

"I didn't say you could speak," Stitch tells him, slowly working the finger inside of Crowbar. He shuts his mouth, focusing instead on the finger. Stitch works one in, and then a second one, and Crowbar bites the inside of his lip, feeling the quiet wonderful burn. Stitch slips his fingers in deep and Crowbar's dick bobs a little as he adjusts, taking care not to shove back against the fingers. Stitch scissors them, "Do you want another?"

"Yes sir," Crowbar says and his eyes fall shut as a third finger slowly slides in. The burn doubles, and Crowbar's fingers dig into the edges of the cot, especially when Stitch thrusts his fingers forward, "Fuck!"

The fingers still, and it's so hard not to shove back onto them. Stitch puts his other hand in the middle of Crowbar's back, putting a bit of weight on him, just enough to be uncomfortable, "I don't think that's what you say. What do you say when I give you something nice?"

"T-thank you," He spits out, and the weight increases, "Thank you sir!"

Stitch chuckles and lets Crowbar back up, twisting his fingers at the same moment. Crowbar's mouth drops open and he just gives up on trying to be composed, savouring the fingers inside of him. They thrust in and Crowbar lets out a soft grunt, once again fighting to keep from pushing back, "Oh my," Snowman says softly and Crowbar's eyes snap open, looking dead ahead at her. She just puts her finger to her lips and smiles, her eyes fixed on him. Stitch pushes in again and Crowbar's face twists up at the sensation.

They withdraw and Crowbar catches his breath, listening intently to what's happening behind him. His eyes stay fixed on Snowman, and the way she's leaning against the back of the boutique's wall. Her hands go to her coat and she slowly undoes the buttons one by one, revealing the tight dress she's wearing, and all of her curves. Behind him, Stitch kneels on the cot, the head of his cock pressing against Crowbar's entrance, "What do you have to say?"

"Please," Crowbar spits out, and then quickly adds, "Sir. Please sir."

Stitch presses a little harder, not enough to shove in, just enough to make Crowbar a little desperate. He stays spread out, and his knees stay still, even though he has to fight like mad to do so. Snowman finishes unbuttoning her coat, and she slowly moves her hands down her body. Crowbar lets out a tiny 'uh' of want, and Stitch's hands grab onto Crowbar's hips, holding him still as he slides just the head of his cock into Crowbar. His mouth drops open and he doesn't know what to focus on, the cock slowly pushing inside of him or Snowman's fingers sliding ever closer to her cunt.

There's a crash outside and Snowman sighs, stopping just before the hem of her skirt. She quickly does her coat back up and fades out. As she disappears, Stitch takes that moment to finally shove into Crowbar. There's no way he can keep quiet this time, not when Stitch buries himself to the hilt, and a gasp rips it's way through Crowbar.

"Heh, enjoyed that did you?" Stitch puts a hand on Crowbar's back forcing him down and Crowbar goes, arms giving out as his face slides into the cot's surface. There are old bloodstains here, and Crowbar can't tell who they're from, and frankly he doesn't give a fuck, not when Stitch is this deep inside of Crowbar, "Is this what you want? You want to be bent over and fucked?"

"Yes sir," Crowbar's fingers curl around the edge of the cot and his voice strains, "Please sir."

"I don't really give a damn what you want," Stitch pulls back and Crowbar closes his eyes, desperately trying not to push himself onto Stitch. His stops right at Crowbar's entrance, the head of his cock still inside of him and Crowbar bites at his bottom lip, held open just enough to be in agony, "I'm doing this because it's what I want. You should be thankful for whatever crumbs I give you."

"Y-yes sir, of c-course sir," The words turn into stumbling blocks when he's bent over like this, two seconds away from begging desperately for anything, "Thank you sir. Can't wait to have you inside me again, sir. Unless you don't want to, sir. Then you can just jerk off, sir."

His mouth gets away from him and he falls back into his old sarcastic ways, right until Stitch slaps Crowbar on the ass hard enough to get his attention. Crowbar jerks forward, but there's nowhere to go when he's face-down on a cot. Stitch stays just pressed inside his entrance, just enough to drive Crowbar insane, "Watch your mouth, or I'll watch it for you."

"Yes sir," Crowbar says and that's all he says, fingers clenching tighter. That seems to be enough from Stitch because he finally pushes back in, and really starts fucking Crowbar. His thrusts are hard and quick, and Crowbar presses his forehead against the rough fabric, overwhelmed by them. For the past month or so, he's been tense and so tired of always being the guy in control, and there aren't any words to describe how happy he is to turn that all over to someone else and to let them decide everything.

The hands on his hips dig in as Stitch's thrusts get faster, and deeper, and Crowbar's breath gets a little shaky. He wants to touch himself so badly, but he knows better than to just do it, and he's already aware of what the answer will be if he asks. It's so hard to keep from saying the words though, and he counters each attempt at begging by moaning instead, rubbing his forehead against the cloth with every hard thrust.

Stitch pushes in deep and just stops, and Crowbar groans in frustration, not completely able to stop his hips from attempting to jerk forward and back again. But Stitch has a solid grip on Crowbar's hips, and he can't go anywhere, "Now, did I say you could do that?"

"N-no sir," He says, trembling with want. Crowbar is so hard that he could break bricks, and so desperate that he would agree to anything in this moment.

"That's right, I didn't give you permission to do anything," Stitch squeezes Crowbar's hips, and Crowbar can almost feel Stitch's dick twitching inside of him. He must want this as badly as Crowbar does, but his voice is so level, so calm, as if he's just darning socks instead of balls-deep in Crowbar's ass, "Are you going to do it again?"

"No. Sir," Crowbar's knuckles must be going white by now, so tight on the cot's metal rails that he can barely feel them anymore, "Sorry sir."

Stitch chuckles, and finally starts to move again. Crowbar pants softly with each thrust in, his body torqued so tight that he knows it's going to hurt when he finally comes. Stitch is so good at fucking him just hard enough to drive him nuts, but angled off just enough that there's no way Crowbar can come just from penetration. He wants to ask if Stitch has done this before, fucked someone else on this cot, but now's not the time for it, and if Stitch stops fucking him, Crowbar's not sure he'll be able to take it.

There's the sound of a stool dragging over the floor, and when Crowbar glances up, he finds Snowman sitting right by his head. She smiles down at him, lying the back of her hand against his forehead, "Is he being a good boy?"

"He could be better," Stitch's fingers are going to leave bruises, and Crowbar's not sure how sitting down is going to be for the next few days. Hopefully nobody will notice if he stands more than usual, and walks a little gingerly. His eyes stay up on Snowman, and he watches with a quiet sort of desperation as she pushes her skirt up, revealing her cunt. She puts her fingers against his mouth and he opens wide, letting them in and slicking them up, "Bet he wishes that were a dick in his mouth right now. Don't you?"

"yissrr," Crowbar mumbles around Snowman's fingers, and his teeth close just a little on them. She pulls her wet fingers out, and slides them between her thighs and Crowbar whimpers softly, not able to deal with all of this. He's going to die if he doesn't come. Crowbar's not even sure he's exaggerating at this point, not when he's got a front-row seat to Snowman masturbating and Stitch still deep inside of him.

She's as ruthlessly efficient as Stitch is, only since she's just taking care of herself, there's no teasing. Crowbar can see her fingers thrusting into herself, and he almost laughs when he realizes that she's timing them with Stitch's thrusts. Her thumb rubs her clit, pressing down on it hard, and Crowbar bites his bottom lip, his dick throbbing like mad.

Crowbar doesn't expect it. Blame it on Stitch's iron control, but Crowbar doesn't even realize how close he is to the edge until he feels Stitch go still, and as he lifts his head to figure out why, he feels Stitch come inside of him. Stitch groans and Crowbar does too, completely desperate to be touched at this point. The hands on his hips relax, and one of them moves down Crowbar's thigh, but it doesn't touch Crowbar, "Beg for it," Stitch says, still trying to catch his breath.

"Please sir please just touch me, please sir, please," He begs wholeheartedly and without any reservation, desperation creeping into his voice, and Stitch finally wraps a hand around his dick. Crowbar nearly cries with relief, and he doesn't even make it two strokes before he comes. The orgasm hits him hard, and he feels like he's going to just break into a dozen pieces as it rips through him and blots out any higher-brain function. He's so glad for the cot because there's no way he can stay upright any longer, and at least he's got something soft to fall into. Crowbar just lays there, and Stitch is heavy against his back, and his eyes barely focus on Snowman sitting in front of him.

She's still touching herself, and he aches softly with lust. He's too spent to even think about doing anything, and he just watches, committing it to memory. Stitch finally catches his breath and pulls out of Crowbar, and Crowbar squeezes his eyes shut, feeling so empty and sore. He doesn't move at all, he just listens to Snowman's breath start hitching, and to the sound of Stitch getting his clothes in place again. One of his hands grasps Crowbar's ass and gives it a squeeze, and Crowbar opens his eyes and laughs a little, though the sound comes out weak and hoarse.

Snowman doesn't last too long, and Crowbar gets a front row seat as her thighs tighten and her thumb just mashes against her clit as she comes. His eyes slid up to her face, and he catches the tail-end of it contorting, and of her coming back down. She barely makes a sound, just sighing softly, and then sets her other hand on the edge of the cot to keep upright, "That-" Snowman says softly, "Was lovely. I just wish I could have seen the whole thing."

"Next time. What were those assholes up to?" Stitch asks her, and tosses a rag her way.

"The usual. Multiplying, fighting. I stole Eggs' timer and dropped Itchy in the middle of the desert. By the time he runs back here, he should have calmed down," Snowman carefully picks it up and cleans her and her hands up, before offering the rag to Crowbar. He grasps onto it with thick fingers but can't quite manage to do anything with it, still feeling boneless.

"Alright, come on," Stitch slaps Crowbar's ass again, "Get the hell off the cot. You're going to leave more goddamn stains on it."

Crowbar can't even imagine standing on his own two feet right now. He doesn't even have the energy to clean himself up. Snowman tsks softly and gets off her stool, wobbling a little as she walks around the cot. She gets an arm under him and slowly pulls him onto his feet, getting him to rest his weight against her, "I'm going to go put him to bed."

"Wait," Crowbar manages to say, looking over at Stitch, "T-thank you."

For a moment he expects the usual treatment from Stitch: a noncommittal grunt and a dismissal. But Stitch walks over and presses his forehead against Crowbar's briefly before backing off, "You just let us know when you need this. Alright?"

"Yes," He almost adds sir to the end, but manages to catch himself in time, "I will."

"Good. Now get him out of here," Stitch heads over to the door to unlock it, and Snowman fades them both out. They end up in Crowbar's room, and she just lets him flop on his bed, shoving him further onto it, and throwing a sheet over him.

"I'll keep an eye on things until you're ready," She smiles, and once again brushes her knuckles over his forehead. Snowman fades out, and Crowbar's alone in his room, feeling lethargic and a bit like passing out. The rag is still in his fist and he brings it to his face, smelling it. The musky scent of Snowman fills his nose, and that's how he falls asleep, a little bit of both of them inside of him.


End file.
